Just the same, if I had a few hundred thousand dollars I would enlarge my laboratory and pursue this subject. I believe that something may be discovered. I believe that I could prove it in the course of time. Why, snow crystals, tree and flower forms, everything, gives us a hint, sometimes instantaneously. Why do snow crystals assume almost instantaneously and out of nothing their beautiful forms? The controlling impulse is certainly artistic, isn’t it, and outside of anything we know? (_He notes that he is pressing the matter too far and boring his two friends._) Well, good night. Glad to see you two at the meeting to-night. It was interesting, wasn’t it? BARRETT Very. (_To himself._) He’s a terrible bore. MITCHELL Delightful. (_To himself._) I’m glad he’s done. (_They bow and depart._) SYPHERS Dolts! Fogies! That’s always the way, dull and cautious. BARRETT (_As they walk up the street._) An ingenious theory, but dangerously speculative. He ought to read Stromeyer on “Impulse.” MITCHELL I often wonder about his work and just how sound he is. (_SYPHERS reaches his own door and goes up the steps, unlocks it and mounts the inside stairs to his room. He lights the gas in a chamber which is half library and half bedroom._) SYPHERS (_Seating himself and gazing about dreamily._) A great idea. I’m sure of it. Along this line is coming a scientific revolution. If I had enough radium and stromium, why--but they cost so much. (_He yawns._) Life is really a dream. We are all an emanation, a shadow, a moving picture cast on a screen of ether. I’m sure of it. (_He gazes about, yawns again, and begins to undress._) A TELEGRAPH INSTRUMENT (_At 110th Street Station._) Tick--tick-tick---- tick-tick-tick--tick-tick---- tick--tick-tick-tick-tick-tick---- TELEGRAPH OPERATOR There goes that blamed machine again (_begins to write_.) “Professor George Paul Syphers, 621 West 115th Street, New York City. Your uncle, Edward Fillmore, died at eleven to-night. By the terms of his will you are the sole heir to the bulk of his fortune, three hundred thousand dollars. Come at once. A. J. Larywind, Counsellor,” (_Aside._) I wish someone would leave me three thousand cents. (_To a waiting messenger._) Here, Patsy. Take this up to 115th Street. PATSY LAFERTY (_Cock-eyed, overgrown, contentious._) Sure, it’s just de night to keep busy. It’s goin’ to rain, an’ it’s me late watch. Oh, well, dere’s nuttin’ like bein’ poor an’ honest. (_He seizes a black cotton umbrella almost as large as himself and goes out._) SYPHERS (_Crawling into his bed._) The curious thing is: why should any dominant force outside this seeming life wish to create it--the smallness, the pettiness, the suffering? I must write a book about that. Here I am--(_he suddenly bethinks him of opening a window and gets out. Looking out_). It’s going to rain, I do believe. (_He returns and stretches himself to rest._) There, it’s thundering already. PATSY LAFERTY